


Family Porn Night

by piratedsheep



Category: DRAMAtical Murder (Visual Novel), DRAMAtical Murder - All Media Types
Genre: Alcohol, Drunkenness, Dubcon Kissing, Dubious Consent, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Multi, Mutual Masturbation, Oral Sex, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Polyamory, Porn Watching, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-30
Updated: 2017-01-24
Packaged: 2018-08-12 00:33:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7913482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/piratedsheep/pseuds/piratedsheep
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What happens when you watch porn with your two best friends? Probably not this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I couldn’t not write this. I did my best to write to the prompt, so far. I made this, and I hope you read it and love it. Special thanks to aobas-donut-hole for the prompt.
> 
> Titled after the strangest (and greatest) tradition in my group of friends: getting together to platonically watch porn. That said, nothing like this has ever happened to us.
> 
> I do not own these characters, but damn, do I love them. Fair warning, it’s set in plotless canonverse, and while I made a serious effort to keep them in character, I’m also a nervous piece of trash. It's my first time publishing to DMMD, also my first time trying to write a poly relationship. If I make any missteps, please forgive me or gently correct me, I promise I'm doing my best.

One afternoon, Koujaku got a call on his Coil from Mizuki, announcing he wanted to have a movie night. He’d already invited Aoba, and it’d be just the three of them. Koujaku resisted the urge to explain to him _again_ that he didn’t want him to set the two of them up—he didn’t even really like men, let alone his childhood friend!—but it would’ve just lead to Mizuki denying any attempt to do such a thing. Instead, Koujaku shrugged and told him it sounded like a good time.

That night, he arrived at Mizuki’s place with a bottle of plum wine. He and Aoba traded greetings, settling onto Mizuki’s futon. Mizuki cracked a beer and brought over glasses for the wine, and it was going smoothly until Mizuki revealed what was on the DVD.

“Really? A porno?” Aoba asked, tilting his head a little. “Why do you want to watch that with us?”

Mizuki was practically glowing. “You can’t buy it in Midorijima. DVDs are practically obsolete here, and I’ve been waiting for it to come in for two months. It’s unlike anything else you can find at the average porn shop on this island, and I figured, why not share it with you guys?”

Koujaku bit his tongue and sipped wine as Mizuki loaded up the DVD. It couldn’t possibly be that bad, and if it was, he could stage a mutiny later on. Aoba nestled between them, already protectively hugging a pillow in his lap and cradling the cup of wine.

The menu screen was still, no moving animations in the background. It must have been a very old DVD, complete with the fact that it was a _physical_ DVD and not a digital file. Mizuki pressed play and then sat back, one foot up on the cushion, legs spread comfortably. Koujaku fought the urge to fidget, not prepared for this ordeal at all, leaning back into the plush pillowtop of the futon.

The introduction was overlaid with repetitive techno music, and Koujaku tried to tune it out. For a porno, though, the cast of characters was pretty broad, all of them stunning. The music faded out, and he was shocked to see that it didn’t immediately devolve into senseless clothes-tearing and rutting. The acting was sub par, but they weren’t actors, not in the traditional sense. It was like an amateur film, up until the clothes came off.

Aoba covered his face and whispered, “Oh my gosh,” when the first pair of tits crossed the screen, hiding his blush and looking down. Koujaku wasn’t really fazed, but they _were_ very nice breasts. They jiggled, and moved like natural breasts would, he noticed. But he was more enthralled by the acting, the fact that there was a plot that was nearly interesting enough to stand alone, the emotional development between the characters that seemed to be snowballing into some serious sexual tension.

The sex scenes were something altogether different. Koujaku found himself trying to discreetly adjust the tent in his pants to be less obvious, but then he thought his fidgeting was more likely to draw attention. So he sat there, on a futon with his two close friends, sporting a serious boner. He would have spared a glance for Mizuki, but he wasn’t about to lean forward and be obvious about it. On the other hand, next to him, Aoba’s eyes were fixated on the screen, mouth dropped into a small “oh.” His mouth snapped closed and his tongue darted out to wet his lips when he realized he’d been slack-jawed, but he didn’t spare a glance for either of them, focused on the on-screen action.

Koujaku couldn’t take his eyes off him. The flush on his cheeks, the glint of the screen lighting up his features. He wore his arousal very blatantly on his frame, tense but not rigid, pillow firmly planted on his lap. He’d poured them both another cup not too long ago, but it wasn’t hard to tell the flush of his face wasn’t only because of inebriation.

He’d never really thought about Aoba in this way—caught up in the haze of arousal, a little unfocused, and _damned_ sexy. It was one thing to watch pornography together with him, but to want to watch _him_ , that was unexpected. He was turned on, idly rubbing his own thigh, and knowing that Aoba was also, even though it wasn’t directed at him, he _wanted._ His thoughts drifted to the idea of what Aoba would do if he kissed him, pinned him back onto the futon, what it would be like to run his hands all over Aoba’s body, kiss his neck, dip his fingers under his shirt and lift it up—

And then his eyes darted past Aoba over to Mizuki, who’d leaned forward. Mizuki, who was staring right at him with a knowing, scheming look. “Hey, Koujaku,” he murmured, clearing his throat just loud enough to catch both his and Aoba’s attention.

“What?” he responded automatically, lifting his hand up like he’d been caught. He _had_ been caught. Aoba leaned back and looked between them.

Mizuki smirked but asked politely, “Wanna go camping?”

He couldn’t think of anything else to say besides another, slightly more emphatic, “ _What?_ ”

“Because you’re pitching a pre-etty big tent over there, my friend.” His eyes darted down, biting his lip, Aoba’s eyes following down to Koujaku’s crotch. He crossed his legs quickly, throwing his kimono over it, utterly unable to bear the hot wave of embarrassment as the DVD rang out with more moans and wet, slapping skin.

Mizuki sat back, trying to be polite and suppress his laughter, while Aoba looked completely mortified. Trying to formulate a response, his heart pounding and wine clouding his brain, Koujaku tried to joke back, “We’ll have to go find some beautiful ladies, later.”

After that, he resolutely locked onto the screen, sipping his wine. Mizuki’s laughter bubbled over and he said, “Glad to know you’re enjoying it,” which smoothed the mood back out a little.

Koujaku resolutely locked onto the screen, automatically sipping his wine, giving Mizuki and Aoba the cold shoulder. Mizuki’s laughter bubbled over and he said, “Glad you’re enjoying it,” which somehow smoothed the mood back out a little, helping turn their attention back to the screen.

Tipping back the rest of the wine, Koujaku automatically leaned forward to refill it—if he was going to get through this with an ounce of dignity, he would do it while getting blindingly drunk. Koujaku felt his lip twist up into a grin, taking solace in the thought that Mizuki was just trying to fuck with him. He felt Aoba relax next to him, but Koujaku wouldn’t risk looking at either of them again.

The woman on the screen was letting out the most spirited, erotic moans with each jerk of her body against the man’s. It seemed so far removed from acting that Koujaku had to imagine they were really getting off, the male actor’s sweet caresses and unbidden moans reaching up to join hers, in an act that seemed less like pornography and more like love.

He had to hand it to Mizuki. It was the best porn Koujaku had watched in his entire life.

When the credits rolled, Aoba stood up quickly and excused himself to the restroom far too quickly to be inconspicuous. The bathroom door slammed, and Mizuki slid over on the futon, not touching him, not too close, but into the spot where Aoba had been sitting.

“It’s late,” he said, slinging his arm across the back of the futon.

Koujaku felt like he was swaying. Maybe he’d had too much to drink. “Yeah, uh, I should probably get home,” he said, watching Mizuki’s eyes light up.

“You can stay the night, if you’d prefer. I’ll put Aoba on the trundle, you can have the futon,” he offered.

He felt pliant, maybe too much so, but he nodded his assent. Mizuki leaned in closer, to where he could whisper in Koujaku’s ear. “Did you like it?”

“Like what?” he asked, feeling dumb about it. “I mean yes, I, I liked the DVD,” he corrected, trying not to slur his words.

“I’m glad you liked it, but I think,” he replied, pausing to nip Koujaku’s ear, “I think you liked something else quite a bit more.” Everything about him was so overwhelmingly sensual, his hot palm sliding up Koujaku’s thigh, his mouth leaving behind a trail of wet kisses on his ear, his jaw, his neck. Mizuki’s other hand reached up to unclasp the black choker around his neck, granting him more access.

Koujaku’s mind was sluggish, but his body reacted, shivers erupting all along his skin, his arousal surging low in his gut from the feeling of Mizuki’s soft lips against his neck, moving lower, sliding the neck of his kimono down off his shoulder. His hand squeezed Koujaku’s thigh, stopping just short of his crotch, and Koujaku suddenly felt dizzy, suspended between the haze of arousal and the weighty feeling of having drank too much. It was too much, too fast.

“Stop,” he breathed, pushing Mizuki away, standing up. He pitched forward, unsteady on his legs, but caught himself on the table. He awkwardly gathered up the cups and some of the beer bottles, clinking too loudly, taking them over to the sink and dropping them in. Suddenly, Mizuki was behind him, taking the bottles and tossing them into the recycling, and his presence made Koujaku bristle.

He glared, bracing for an argument, ready to storm out, but when he turned to meet Mizuki’s eyes, he looked troubled. Mizuki spoke up first. “Sorry,” he said, a little breathless. “If you want to go home after all, you can. But you’re still welcome to stay. I won’t do anything you don’t want.”

Koujaku deflated at that, his head spinning. “No, I know. I’m just not—I’ve never done—”

“Never?” Mizuki asked, a little incredulous.

“Not with a man,” Koujaku amended, steadying himself against the sink, rubbing the back of his neck. He wanted to say more, but Mizuki stole the words out of his mouth.

“But you want to,” he said, closing in, his lips hovering over Koujaku’s.

His voice was small when he finally uttered, “Yes.”

It felt inevitable, like gravity was pulling him into the kiss. Koujaku tilted his head and parted his lips, and Mizuki followed his lead. Their teeth clicked together and Mizuki pulled back, nipping his lips and teasing Koujaku into leaning forward for more. He did, reaching up to cup the back of Mizuki’s head, holding him still so he could lick into his mouth.

He still liked women—the rogue thought crossing his mind as he eagerly devoured his friend’s mouth—but the way he felt about Mizuki, cupping his cheek, curling his fingers in his hair, pulling him in closer so their hips were flush, well, it was complicated. They were making it more complicated by the second. He knew they were definitely more than just friends, and it wasn’t his first time having a casual fling, but this was Mizuki. He didn’t want to jeopardize their friendship with careless sex.

It was Mizuki who broke off the kissing, his sharp, green eyes locking onto Koujaku’s. “You’re distracted. What are you thinking about?”

Koujaku thought for a split second about lying, but Mizuki must have caught the way his eyes flickered down. He huffed a sigh, and said, “This is all too fast, isn’t it?”

“A little,” he responded, the corner of his mouth pulling up into an apologetic smile. “I sleep around all the time, but somehow, this is different.” The words tumbled out of his mouth more freely than he would have liked, but it was out there now and he couldn’t take it back.

It was such a strange rejection. Mizuki forced a smile, gesturing vaguely at him. “Well, if you decide you want any help with _that_ ,” he said, glancing down meaningfully, “we can put Aoba on the futon.”

Koujaku let a nervous laugh bubble out of his chest, but shook his head. “I think I need to sleep,” he said, glancing over to the futon. Aoba was curled up on it, and— _when had he_ _come out_ _from the bathroom?_ Koujaku wondered, _how much had he heard?_

Picking out a few blankets from the closet, Mizuki draped one over Aoba, and handed one to Koujaku. “Trundle’s all yours,” he said.

Koujaku followed him to the bedroom, down the hallway just past the bathroom. Mizuki hunched over and rolled the trundle out, gesturing to it grandly, before climbing over it onto his bed.

Once Koujaku’s head hit the pillow, he passed out.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of Koujaku, Mizuki, and Aoba's family porn night is... complicated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoy the update, hugs and kisses to all of you who come back for more.
> 
> I really, really appreciate all the comments, it really helped me fight through to the end of this chapter (even though it's still so short!!). More to come, sooner rather than later!

Mizuki’s bathroom was small and clean and stifling. Aoba’s reflection stared back at him, and he rubbed his palms over the flush on his face, wanting to make it go away.

He’d run to the bathroom because he couldn’t take another moment of being in a room with those two. Koujaku purposefully averting his eyes but sparing him small, meaningful glances, filled with a kind of carnal hunger. He knew, it definitely wasn’t the porno that got him so worked up. He sat back against the sink, avoiding his reflection.

He dropped his attention to where his erection strained against the front of his pants. It hadn’t gone away yet. He knew, when he witnessed Koujaku’s reaction to Mizuki’s joke, he was resisting the same temptation that put Aoba in this bathroom, carefully considering the pros and cons of jerking off. They’d been a short reach away from one another on the futon, bare seconds away from giving in, possibility at their fingertips.

Any other time, he wouldn’t even consider doing this. But instead of thinking too much about it, he pulled his zipper down, unclasped the button of his pants, and pushed his underwear down until his dick was hanging out. It was a relief to have it out, the cool bathroom air making him feel even hotter.

 _Am I really going to do this?_ he wondered, chewing his lip guiltily. There was already a small bead of precome at his tip. As he wrapped his fingers around himself, his erection jumped under his touch. He was _really_ turned on, and as he began to stroke, he tried to think about the DVD, actresses’ tits, her beautiful, sexy moans. He tried to focus on that, his hand slowing down before he knew what he was doing. It really wasn’t the DVD that made his body surge with such arousal, and he had to confront that—at least, he would have to if he wanted to get this over with.

The idea of Koujaku putting his hands on him, whispering into his ear and kissing him there, all the way down to the nape of his neck, it was irresistible. Squeezing his fingers lightly around the swollen head of his dick, Aoba lifted his shirt up and bit down on the hem of it. It had the dual effect of keeping the weird, breathless sounds escaping his mouth from echoing too loudly. Everything sounded so loud in the bathroom, he could hear the drag of his hand, the small squelch of his precome easing the way.

Koujaku would latch onto his neck—he’d seen him do it to women before, when they went out drinking. Her, giggling and shy, but Koujaku, unable to resist whispering sweet things in her ear as he peppered her nape with kisses. He wanted to know what he said to them, the words that rendered them blushing and speechless.

What kind of dirty things, he wondered. Aoba imagined Koujaku whispering the things he wanted to do to him, caressing his body like a woman’s. Inevitably, his hands would wander down and cup Aoba’s ass, which sent a shock through his body.

To have Koujaku, maybe, kneel down in front of him, nuzzling his cock. Aoba stroked himself, heat rising to his cheeks with such a greedy thought—it seemed too subservient to kneel in front of someone like that, but still, it was extremely appealing. And yet, his fantasy was inconstant and amorphous. One moment, Koujaku was suckling on his nape, or fondling his dick, in another, he was propelled to reality, hand curled around his dick, forced to ride out a surge of pleasure as the threat of orgasm curled in his gut.

It was adventurous for him to think it, but he wanted more, he wanted more—hands on his ass, pulling his cheeks apart, slick fingers dipping inside. The illusion of his fantasy felt warped, stretched thin, when he suddenly knew it wasn’t Koujaku’s hands he was imagining. Tanned hands smoothed over his back, with a short trip around his midsection and down to his thighs, and guiltily, Aoba realized who it was. From there, it was Mizuki who pulled him back to grind his prominent erection against Aoba’s backside, while Koujaku still ruled the rest of his body, occupying his lips and neck.

That was it. He imagined Mizuki standing behind him, dragging his teeth across Aoba’s neck, digging his fingers into his hips, holding him close as he humped against Aoba’s ass. Maybe they’d fuck, while Koujaku finally kneeled in front of him, both of them yanking his pants down further, until he was fully exposed.0

He could imagine hearing Mizuki croon sweet, dirty words into his ear, while he controlled the pace of Aoba’s hips, fucking him so gently so Koujaku could suck on him from the front. Mizuki would tell him about what he’d do to him later, while Koujaku watched, or what he wanted to see Koujaku do to him. He imagined Koujaku swallowing him eagerly, and Aoba squeezed his index finger and thumb together, imagining the tight pull of his lips.

He swore under his breath, cupping his other hand around the front as he felt his climax building, pushing the head of his dick against his palm as he stroked faster. He was going to come, and it was all because he wanted such dirty, impossible things. He wanted them to fuck him, for Mizuki to finish inside, and then pass him onto Koujaku, who’d take him after—

Aoba sucked in a gasp, his shirt wet with saliva, as he shivered with climax, shooting into his palm.

That he felt conflicted didn’t even begin to describe it.

Turning around to wash his hands, he released his shirt, feeling the moist patch on it drop to his skin. He wiped off his dick, too, tucking it back into his pants.

God, what had he just done?

The answer to that was easy: he’d just gotten off to a fantasy. Of his two best friends. Giving him some serious foreplay. And then taking him. Unable to look himself in the eye, he desperately held onto the thought, _this doesn’t change anything between us. It was just a fantasy you used to get off._

It wasn’t going to get any less weird, so Aoba steeled himself and snuck out to lay down on the futon. He was about to pass the kitchen door, at least until he heard a muffled, “Mmh!” and the distinct sound of smacking lips and hot, heavy breathing coming from the kitchen. He risked a glance around the corner.

Mizuki’s arms bracketed Koujaku, trapping against the countertop, and they were absolutely devouring one another. Aoba felt his heart drop into his stomach as he watched, but he couldn’t take his eyes away. The two people he’d _literally_ just gotten off to were making out in the kitchen, just a few feet from where he stood. His body was still tingling with satisfaction as he stared. At least he wasn’t alone in giving into the palpable sexual tension.

Koujaku was making low, sweet gasping noises in between each kiss Mizuki planted on his lips. It didn’t sound at all like him, somehow. His hands slid up Mizuki’s arms, as Mizuki shuffled in a little closer to press their hips together. Koujaku visibly hitched up at that, his fingers carding through the short hairs on Mizuki’s neck.

Already feeling a slight flush creep up on him again, Aoba ducked back behind the wall again. He felt like a voyeur, now that the initial shock had turned into something warm and low in his belly. He pushed away from the wall and, as quietly as he could, went to lay down on the futon, stuffing a pillow under his head and closing his eyes.

He heard more murmurs from the kitchen, like maybe they were breaking away to continue in the bedroom. Suddenly, Aoba wanted to leave, but he felt paralyzed with indecision. They would know he’d been awake, maybe they already knew he’d seen them. But then, the sound of approaching footsteps made Aoba’s body tense up, and he tried not to flinch when he felt a blanket being laid over him. He pushed out a slow sigh and shifted a little, trying to act like he was barely stirring from sleep.

Both sets of footsteps retreated, the click of the bedroom door signifying as much, and Aoba couldn’t help but to listen hard for any telling gasps and moans or squeaky bed frames. There were no sounds, except for the distant click of the air conditioner turning off.

Heart still beating too fast from the sheer panic of the moment, Aoba closed his eyes and tried to find sleep, but as he chased it, it got further away. He sighed and shifted, pulling the blanket up over his shoulder. A hundred what-if questions circled around and around in his head. He didn’t want to think about what would happen if Koujaku and Mizuki hooked up, the thought of them becoming a couple and him, alone and stuck on the outside of that, sent a sick churn through his stomach. He didn’t know why, but that scenario felt staggeringly similar to the idea of losing them both as friends.

It was ridiculous. There was no way they would toss him aside like that, and Aoba felt stupid for even thinking it, but he couldn’t help but admit that he was a little scared. Even if Mizuki hadn’t meant to throw their friendship into utter turmoil, that was suddenly how it felt. And sure, the idea of having both of them was sexy and fantastic, but was it possible? It didn’t seem possible. Was that the reason they’d remained as friends for so long? There had never been an inkling of more-than-friends until now, and now that it was here, paraded right in front of him, he didn’t know what to do.

Aoba tossed and turned until sleep found him, and when he did sleep, it wasn’t deep or restful, knowing he might have to confront the two of them in the morning.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's still complicated, but at least Koujaku and Mizuki are starting to figure things out. Koujaku meets a beautiful woman, named Aimi, later that day, although he still has his heart set on Aoba and Mizuki.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I closed my eyes as I posted this, I literally can't look at it anymore ;u;
> 
> I hope you enjoy it, even though there isn't any smut this chapter... I promise, I am building up to bigger and greater things!! I hope it's not too misleading, movie night round two is actually going to be next chapter.
> 
> Thank you everyone who's sticking around for this and leaving me encouraging comments, you're the best. c:

Koujaku woke up with a splitting headache. His whole body ached, and when he tried to swallow and lick his lips, his mouth felt like it was lined with cotton. He had the good sense to keep his eyes closed—it wasn’t his first rodeo—but he couldn’t stay that way forever. His bladder felt like it was about to burst, so he forced himself into a vertical position and crept out to the bathroom, squinting the whole way.

Once relieved, he splashed some water on his face, straightened out his hair, and raided Mizuki’s medicine cabinet for some headache pills. The next step would be food, and he was delighted to hear two voices coming from the kitchen, as his headache continued to pound.

Aoba was sitting at the table, nursing a cup of coffee, a syrupy plate pushed away from his setting. “Ah, Koujaku, you slept in.” His voice was tense, like he was trying (and failing) to sound nonchalant.

“Yeah,” he replied. His throat felt rusty, completely parched. He went to the sink to pour a glass of a water, Mizuki tending some more pancakes next to him at the stove. There was a steaming stack of them already on the island behind him, with cut-up berries and syrup next to them.

But seeing Mizuki brought back a sudden lurch of memories from the night before. They’d made out—not some accidental kiss, and nothing that could really be excused by calling it “drunken shenanigans” or anything like that. It’d been deliberate, purposeful. Koujaku froze, his stomach sinking. He didn’t stop to greet Mizuki, instead abruptly turning away and walking around the other side of the island to the little kitchen table, taking the seat across from Aoba.

Aoba had a face that couldn’t really lie. His eyebrows shot straight up at Koujaku’s weird-avoiding-dance, and Koujaku hesitated to meet his eyes, sheepishly staring at the napkin holder in between sips of water.

“Did you want to eat, Koujaku? I made pancakes,” Mizuki offered him a plate with three pancakes and a pile of fruit, and Koujaku’s mouth watered. It even made his headache fade a little more.

The silence dragged a bit as Koujaku cleared his throat. “Sure, I’ll—”

“Well, I have to go or I’ll be late to work!” Aoba said, standing up hastily. He spoke haltingly as he dropped his dishes in the sink and hustled to the door to slip on his shoes. “Mizuki, as always, thank you for putting up with us, sorry I couldn’t stay any longer and eat with you, Koujaku. I’ll see you both later.”

And then, Koujaku and Mizuki were left alone at the slam of his apartment door.

Mizuki set the plate in front of Koujaku, who quietly thanked him, and then sat down in the seat Aoba had vacated.

The lack of conversation hung over them, the only sound was the click and scrape of Koujaku cutting up and eating his pancakes. Mizuki got up to refill his water once he’d drained it, and when he sat back down, he leaned back and crossed his arms.

“Is it going to be weird between us from now on? Do you think I fucked up our friendship?” he asked, restlessly shaking his leg. Tension was set in every muscle of his body. He didn’t want to believe he’d fucked up anything, but sudden turn in their morning had him doubting himself.

Koujaku huffed a sigh, firmly deciding it was too early—or he was too hungover—to answer such an ominous question. “I don’t know,” he said. “Did you want to stay friends? With us?”

Mizuki looked affronted. “Of course I still want to be your friend. Aoba’s too.”

Shaking his head, Koujaku tried again. “No, did you want to _stay_ friends, or do you want more? I know friends might watch porn together sometimes, but do friends also kiss each other like you kissed me last night?”

It was definitely a fuzzy memory, but Koujaku really couldn’t have forgotten it if he tried. Mizuki had kissed the hell out of him last night, and it had been very nearly earth-shattering, if he was being honest with himself. He felt a late rush of embarrassment at how he’d called him out, but it was true.

“Well, I wanted to sleep with you last night, but you were too drunk,” Mizuki said, cracking a huge grin. Koujaku barked a short laugh, and Mizuki sobered up his expression before continuing. “But, then again, something didn’t feel right about it. Not about you, but about doing it, at that time.”

A strange pull in his chest told Koujaku he was thinking the same thing. “Aoba?”

“Yeah, Aoba,” Mizuki answered. He knew the answer to the next question, but he asked it anyway. “Do you think he saw us last night?”

Pushing his empty plate away, Koujaku rubbed the bridge of his nose, head threatening to throb painfully. “I don’t know, I guess he probably did.”

Mizuki automatically took his plate and went to the sink, piling all of their dishes into the soapy water. He poured a fresh mug of coffee, before switching off the coffeemaker. “Do you want cream or sugar?”

“Huh? Oh, a little sugar,” Koujaku replied, accepting the mug from him after he’d added a spoonful of sugar. He breathed in the hot, swirling steam, and it did wonders to ease his brimming headache.

Watching him take a few short, delicate sips, Mizuki bade his time, washing dishes and setting them up to dry, until Koujaku set his mug down. Eventually, Mizuki asked the question that was really bothering him. _Knowing is better than not knowing_ , he thought. “Do you want to have sex with me?”

Koujaku sucked in a breath and held it, evaluating Mizuki’s expression for any sign of a joke. He let his response tumble out, hardly calculated, but absolutely true, to every word. “What, you mean right now? I’m not opposed, that is, I would like to, but at the same time, I don’t know if I want to, not if it means Aoba,” he said, trying to finish his thought. “If Aoba—”

“I feel the same way,” he said, feeling a little heat rise to his cheeks. It was a confession, after all. He shut off the water, shaking his hands dry. Crossing back to the table, he stood by Koujaku. He felt too restless to sit down.

“So what does that mean for us?” Koujaku asked, staring down into his mug. He was pretty sure he knew what Mizuki would say, but he wanted to hear him say it.

“It means we get Aoba involved,” Mizuki said.

Koujaku hummed his agreement. He was excited at the idea of having them both, although he felt like it wasn’t quite real yet. He’d participated in a threesome before, but it had been with two ladies, and it had only lasted one night. This was far more than a casual affair. There was an acute tug in his chest, again, at the thought of a relationship between himself, Mizuki, and Aoba. Could they make something like that work? It was a big step up from their current relationship, introducing a sexual element, for one, but would it mean they’d all be boyfriends?

Then, Mizuki said something Koujaku wasn’t expecting at all. “Did we just agree to seduce Aoba together?”

It sounded so strange to hear him phrase it like that, Koujaku couldn’t help but burst out laughing. Mizuki joined in, laughing both at himself, and with relief. Maybe everything would be all right.

 

* * *

 

It was about two days before Mizuki shot off a fresh group message, asking them to come over for another movie night sometime next week. The message itself was completely innocuous and Koujaku wasn’t sure if he was projecting or not, but it seemed a little shy.

The two of them hadn’t made any plans beyond supposedly seducing Aoba at some point. The idea of it made Koujaku a bit giddy and a bit worried at the same time. One thing he knew for sure was that he wanted Aoba just as much as he wanted Mizuki.

He also knew that most people would choose one and forgo the other and that would be completely normal, or he would let them be a couple and continue living his bachelor life. But, there was something in the way he and Mizuki had opened up to one another, he believed they could make it work. That stubborn, scared part of him still wanted to chalk it up to too much booze and go back to how they’d been before, but it’d ultimately be a facade. He wanted them and he couldn’t deny it.

All the way up until the day of, he couldn’t stop thinking about all the possible ways it could go wrong, even though, more than anything, he wanted to be with them. He gave a deep sigh, trying to convince himself that maybe everything would be all right. They hadn’t had sex yet, and if he was being completely honest with himself, despite all his uncertainties, he was eager to see how that aspect of their relationship would play out.

“Koujaku, why are you sighing?” came a voice from below him. He’d completely forgotten the girl sitting in his chair, unconsciously combing through her hair with his fingers and separating it into parts.

“Troubles of the heart,” he said, twirling a piece of her hair around and pinning it up.

She gasped. “Are you in love?” she asked, her voice turning leery. “You don’t have a girlfriend right now, do you?”

“No, no girlfriend,” he replied. At least that much, he was certain was one-hundred percent true. Not that he had a boyfriend yet, either. He began to swirl some of her hair into braids and twists as he continued, “If I had a girlfriend who was as beautiful as you, though, I would definitely be a very happy man.”

She accepted the compliment, swinging her feet back and forth excitedly. It was troublesome to feel poorly when he was at work, but he was surprised at himself for letting it show so obviously. He whipped his scissors out, shaping some of her hair to work with the style, before pulling out his hand mirror and showing her.

“Oh, Koujaku! You made me look so beautiful!” she exclaimed, holding the mirror and looking at the style from a few different angles.

“You were already beautiful, of course. I simply did my job,” he said, smiling as she handed the mirror back. She dug into her purse for payment, and he took her hand as she tried to pass it to him, tapping his lips against her knuckles gingerly. Her face erupted in red and she suppressed a squeal—and he could hear a few of the ladies in line gasp audibly.

After gathering her purse, she bowed and took her leave, and Koujaku looked back at the line. He eyed the woman in front, holding a parasol, shading her fair, rosy skin from the late afternoon sun. Her light, lavender-blonde hair was pinned up loosely, long, wavy locks tumbling almost all the way down to her waist. Checking the time on his Coil, he waved her forward and announced to the rest of them, “Last customer, ladies and gents! Thank you for waiting, but please, come again another day.”

Most of them weren’t queueing up, many people just crowded around to watch, even though that crowd was also beginning to dwindle in size. He did see one woman stomp her foot and storm off. But tonight, he didn’t want to work late. It was the night Mizuki had invited them over, so he wanted to finish up early.

She closed her parasol and sat in his chair, lifting her long hair over the back. Running his fingers through it, and gently removing the few pins he found, Koujaku was impressed by how healthy it was, despite being very fine. She definitely spent a lot of time caring for it. There was always something he respected when handling hair that was beautiful like hers.

“Your name?” he asked, sweeping the barber’s cape over her shoulders.

“Aimi,” she said. It was a lovely name, and suited her very well, he thought.

“So, Aimi, what would you like today?” he asked, continuing to run his fingers through her locks, gathering it up to fasten the cape around her neck, before drawing some of it back over her shoulders. He didn’t stop playing with her hair, giving it long, languid strokes, ideas on what styles he could try running through his mind.

“I trust your intuition, but for now, please refrain from cutting it,” she answered, tilting her head ever so slightly and leaning into his touch.

He had to admit, he was a bit taken with her. Beautiful hair _and_ a free pass to do whatever he wanted with it. She had a kind of sweet, measured grace about her, speaking softly but annunciating clearly, and he couldn’t stop thinking about how wonderful her hair felt. The realization was like a punch to the gut, when he thought, _this is the kind of woman I would invite home with me_.

For some reason, the thought hit harder than usual, with a heaping portion of foreboding attached to it—was it because he was already intending to pursue the relationship with Mizuki and Aoba? He wanted to cringe, but resisted the urge.

Koujaku focused on his work, determined to send her off with the most elegant, polished style he could manage, and as the sun began to dip below the horizon, it came together beneath his fingers. She let him work, the only words they traded were little directions and short comments about how it was going. At one point, he noticed her eyes were closed, her face the picture of complete relaxation. He pinned up and sprayed a few loose strands in place, checking that everything would stay in place for the rest of the evening.

When he handed Aimi the mirror, she examined it from a few angles, as he removed the barber’s cape. He’d gathered most of her hair to one side, tight knots curling over one another to create a bun with just the right amount of volume, with a very delicate lattice design he’d woven into her hair leading down into it. She appraised it for a moment, until her face broke into a huge smile and she leapt up from the chair.

“Koujaku, it’s better than I could have ever imagined. Thank you,” she said, taking his hands before leaning in on her tiptoes to press her cheek to his, delivering a small peck. “Would you join me for a drink?”

He blushed at how forward she was, and disguised his apprehension with a charming smile as soon as it crossed his face. Under normal circumstances, he wouldn’t even hesitate to join her, and if she was willing, he'd take her back to his place. The possibility was being paraded in front of him, but he decided he still had to turn her down.

“I wish I could,” he admitted. “I have a prior engagement.”

Aimi deflated a little, but still wore a bright smile. “Well, possibly another time?”

“Of course. And your hair is gorgeous, I would be happy to style it anytime,” he said, holding out his business card. She picked up her purse and parasol and they exchanged contact information as well as payment.

“I’ll be sure to show it off tonight, I wouldn’t want all of your hard work to go to waste,” she said, beaming. “I’ll tell everyone who did it, and I’ll tell them to come and visit you.”

“Thank you,” he answered, and she leaned in for one more kiss to the cheek, pressing their cheeks together more than anything. It was a typical kind of French greeting, if he wasn’t mistaken. Aimi looked like she could be half-Japanese, although it was uncommon on Midorijima, considering how isolated they were.

They said their goodbyes as she bounced away, waving back at him happily as she opened up her parasol once more. Koujaku gave her a little wave, then busied himself with folding up the chair and packing up his hairdressing supplies, collapsing his sign and fitting it in his duffel last. He’d stop by his home first to drop off his things before going back out to Mizuki’s, so he was probably going to be a little later than what he’d told Aoba and Mizuki.

He tried calling Mizuki first, but the line was busy. It wasn’t unusual, he was probably just on a call with one of his Rib members. He hung up on the third ringing tone, and dialed Aoba next.

“Hello?” Aoba picked up, his voice slightly tinny over the connection.

“Hey, Aoba,” Koujaku said, smiling at Aoba’s picture as he held up his coil, “I’m on my way home before I head to Mizuki’s, are you going there already?”

“Um, no, I hadn’t left yet,” he answered, his tone uneasy.

Koujaku picked up on it right away. “Were you planning to go at all?”

“I’m not sure,” he said. “I like hanging out with you guys, but I don’t know what to think about everything that happened.” He was definitely hinting at something more than just the porn. Koujaku couldn’t help the stray thought, _Mizuki was dead-on, he saw us the other night._

“We’ll watch an actual movie this time, I’ll make sure of it,” Koujaku assured him. “Plus, it might be a good opportunity to talk some, y’know?” He thought for a split second about trying to

“Oh my gosh, no,” Aoba said, laughing nervously, “that’d be even worse, it’d be so embarrassing.”

Koujaku wanted to laugh, feeling like he was the one who should feel embarrassed about it. The events of the night as he remembered them were first being taunted about his hard-on, and then Mizuki coming onto him, followed by now _knowing for sure_ that Aoba had seen them kissing? Also, he was pretty sure Mizuki was into that, to some degree. “What’s so embarrassing?” he asked, genuinely wondering what he meant.

The line crackled and Aoba sputtered, “Ah, what? Nothing! No, yeah, definitely nothing!”

“You can tell me what you’re thinking about,” Koujaku said, hoping he could get Aoba to open up a little. He didn’t think he’d get him to admit seeing them or anything crazy like that, but it was tough to get a read on him over the phone at all.

His offer was met with silence, and then a quiet, pouty answer. “I don’t know if I can, this is kind of,” Aoba sighed, “it kind of involves you, too, doesn’t it?”

Feeling a little dejected, Koujaku responded, “That’s all right, I understand. Just, you know you can talk to me if you decide you want to, okay?”

“Yeah, of course.” Aoba’s voice sounded like he was smiling again. “I am sorry I ran out on you guys the other day, I really was going to be late for work,” he said.

“It’s fine,” Koujaku said, “Will you still come to Mizuki’s tonight? I’m headed there soon.” He was almost to his place, and started searching for his key.

Aoba heaved a big sigh into the receiver. “Sure, I guess so. I’ll go put on my shoes and head out.”

“Great. I’ll talk to you then,” Koujaku said, feeling relieved. “Bye, now.”

“Bye-bye,” Aoba said, hanging up first.

Koujaku shifted the strap of his duffel bag, finally fishing out his keys. He didn’t like feeling like he’d pressured Aoba into coming tonight, but at the same time, he desperately wanted to get the three of them in a room together again. Whether or not he and Mizuki would actually try to seduce Aoba tonight, it wasn’t certain. But all the uncertainty he’d been battling all day came down to tonight, and he was at the mercy of the gut-wrenching desire he felt for both of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Um, so, yes! With the holidays coming around, I'm going to try to get the next chapter up sometime in the middle of next month. In case you're wondering, I am going to try to keep to that as a schedule.
> 
> Also, some serious smut incoming next chapter, so buckle up!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brace for family porn night, round two. Mizuki and Koujaku hatch their brilliant plan, and Aoba is a little overwhelmed by their sexy overtures.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please accept my apologies for the late update. I will strive to be on time (or earlier!!) in the future. There was the holidays and then I just kept writing and writing and it got longer and longer... which is not such a bad thing, but I don't want anyone to think I will abandon this before there's some kind of resolution to it all.
> 
> I do plan for this fic to just kind of go on indefinitely. Especially once I finish the "how they got together" arc. That means there might be more arcs in the future, but for sure there will be lots of porn, with or without plot, to come. :D
> 
> Updated the tags, and tagged for dubious consent because I would rather tag it and be wrong, than _not_ tag it and be wrong.

It really did start out as a perfectly normal movie night for the three of them. They watched one of Mizuki’s strange indie horror films, which was, as he said it, more inspired than a B-list horror movie, but less funded.

As the title card passed, Aoba and Koujaku zeroed in on the actress’ face, and they spoke at the same time.

“Is she—?”

“Was that—?”

Mizuki cackled, and had to catch his breath before answering, “Yes, it’s the same actress as before.”

“She does movies, too?” Aoba asked, bewildered.

“Well, it’s by a different studio, but it’s the same parent company,” Mizuki said, “but it’s not some kind of horror-porno hybrid, this is actually one of the movies they did. Some of the people there aren't just AV actors, they end up doing contracts for other genres too. Since their pornography is really popular, they’ve been able to branch out, create new studios, and have other projects.”

The movie was more hilarious than it was scary, even though Aoba covered his face for a full minute after a particularly bad jump scare, peeking through his fingers as if for protection. Mizuki had a bad habit of talking during movies, but in this case, Aoba appreciated his running commentary—and Koujaku didn’t mind it much. The credits rolled, and Mizuki stood up first.

“Did you guys like it?” he asked, retrieving the DVD from his player.

Aoba’s appraisal was simply, “It wasn’t too scary.”

“I liked how versatile the actress was,” Koujaku commented. “She really _can_ act. It’s weird, I expected her to be bad.”

“Right?” Mizuki said, agreeing. “It doesn’t remind you of her performance from the porno at all.” He returned the case to the cabinet beside the TV, and fished around for another one. They didn’t do double features very often, but he seemed intent on choosing another.

“Did you want to watch another horror movie?” Koujaku asked, checking the time on his coil. To be fair, it was still early.

“I had something else in mind,” Mizuki said. “Just trust me. I think you guys will like it too.”

Those words were a huge red flag to Koujaku, and Aoba even sat up a little straighter. Not ready to pull any punches, Koujaku asked, “Is it porn?”

The way the corners of Mizuki’s mouth turned up into a terrible little smile told them everything they needed to know. He tried to save it with a, “Just trust me!”

Aoba protested first. “Hell no.” He didn’t want to be subjected to such horrible awkwardness, unintentional voyeurism, anything even remotely close to what last time had been. It was suspicious, to say the least, why Mizuki would want to put them all through that again—it definitely hadn’t been just Aoba feeling awkward last time, and he looked to Koujaku for some back-up.

Scratching the back of his head, Koujaku wondered aloud, trying to compromise, “Can’t we just watch another movie?”

“Oh, hush.” Mizuki pressed the disc into the player and Aoba got up to leave.

“Wait, Aoba—” Koujaku wanted to stop him, but before he could say anything else, he heard Mizuki suck in a breath and speak up. “If you can’t handle it, Aoba, it’s all right.”

He stopped in his tracks. Mizuki continued, “I don’t want you to be uncomfortable, so you can leave if you can’t handle watching it.” He issued the words like a challenge.

Koujaku sat back, astonished. He didn’t want Aoba to leave either, but it really wasn’t in him to try and convince him to stay. It felt a little dishonest, that he and Mizuki were planning some sort of seduction ambush, in addition to whatever Mizuki had just put into the DVD player.

He turned around, facing them with his bottom lip stuck out, stubborn as hell. “Only if you guys promise not to do anything weird.”

Mizuki gave a good-natured laugh, and patted the seat between him and Koujaku. “We would never do anything you didn’t want us to do.”

Despite feeling like he might be walking right into a trap, Aoba retook his seat on the futon. Maybe he was getting in way over his head. Truth be told, he was dying to know what Mizuki wanted them to all watch together, and since Koujaku was there too, at least he wouldn’t suffer alone. He risked a glance at Mizuki, who was grinning victoriously.

Aoba had genuinely expected it to be more porn like before, and it was porn, right down to the cheesy, smooth jazz menu music. With the exception that there were no women on the menu, in the opening sequence, none. He felt heat rise to his cheeks as the two men on-screen began to caress and devour each other with kisses, surrounded by minimal pretense.

While the first porno they’d watched had been embarrassing and a little sexy, Aoba felt a realization about himself confirmed with every passing moment. Oh, he was _so gay._

He fidgeted and tried to look away from the screen, but it was _right there_. It transitioned into a blowjob scene, and Aoba was horrified at the noisy slurping and wet groaning. In his teens, he’d kissed and messed around with plenty of girls—and a few guys too—but he’d never had sex with a man before.

Generally speaking, he knew what it entailed. The men on screen were still engaging in a blowjob—it was almost ridiculous, where the man receiving it was making over-the-top groans and screwing up his face in pleasure—but as the time ticked on, he watched the man giving the blowjob start to lube and stretch his partner’s ass wide. Then, as they transitioned fully to that, it was almost instructional. At least, it was the most educational thing Aoba had watched on the subject.

At the same time, Aoba had no idea what to do with his hands—putting them in his lap was too close to his boner, and taking them out of his lap made him feel exposed. He settled for sliding his hands up his thighs, gripping his knees, beyond tense. Koujaku and Mizuki were right next to him, and it felt like they could be watching him at any moment, even if their attention was turned to the screen.

The bottom was vocal, giving lewd directions to his partner, begging and keening as they built up to the act. Koujaku shifted in his seat, wondering how Mizuki could have possibly picked something like this out. He even had the gall to appear unaffected, at least until he broke his gaze from the screen to look at Koujaku, and then Aoba.

Desire welled up in Koujaku as he turned his attention to Aoba too. Even though he was trying to avoid staring, he wanted to comfort him, since his current nervous predicament was obvious. Instead, he looked to Mizuki, who met his eyes. There was something there, a shadow of the victory from earlier, but with a heavy dose of lust. Mizuki bit his lip and nodded at Koujaku, who nodded back, and suddenly, he knew what he wanted to do.

Koujaku whispered Aoba’s name into his ear, in a soft, beckoning way. “Aoba.”

Aoba jerked in surprise, but let Koujaku reach up and touch his chin, turning so Koujaku could stare into his eyes. He waited with his lips just a hair’s breadth from Aoba’s, bracing for the possibility of rejection. When Aoba sighed and closed his eyes a moment later, Koujaku pressed their lips together.

“Mm!” Aoba let out a soft moan at the contact, their kiss immediately becoming more heated and intense after that first tentative moment. Koujaku kissed gently, but with immense passion behind it. Then he deepened the kiss, and Aoba felt like he was being devoured, but at the same time, he couldn’t get enough.

On their other side, Mizuki discreetly reached for the remote and turned down the volume on the porno that was still playing, before reaching out to run his hand up Aoba’s side. Feeling him jump under his touch, Mizuki pressed a kiss behind his ear, before whispering his name too. “Aoba.”

Their lips were so soft, and they were both so gentle that Aoba couldn’t help wanting to fall apart between them. It was all much more overwhelming than anything he could have ever imagined, and his heart clenched at the realization that they were somehow together in embracing him. It almost felt like a dream, one that could end at any moment, and he held back his fears in favor of having them continue.

Koujaku finally relinquished him to press kisses along his jawline and down his neck. He paused after each one, listening for Aoba’s reaction, watching to see what made him shiver, and what made him keen. Almost naturally, Aoba turned to Mizuki next, who took his turn kissing Aoba on the lips. Mizuki kissed differently, like he was encouraging Aoba to take as much as he was given. It was less commanding than Koujaku, but none less sweet.

They continued like that, as if they were sharing Aoba like a particularly delicious meal. Hiking up Aoba’s shirt, Koujaku’s warm fingers brushed over his abdomen, up to his chest—with a small shock, he realized what he was looking for, and let his hand trail back down. Instead, he tentatively ran his hand down over the crotch of Aoba’s pants, feeling the bulge of his clothed erection.

Aoba surged up, throwing his head back and biting his kiss-reddened lips. Mizuki watched, in awe of him, eager to take in more of his reactions. He slid off the couch and wedged himself between Aoba’s legs, sliding his hands up his thighs and nudging his face against Koujaku’s hand.

“Oh god,” Aoba breathed, panic entering his tone as he twisted away from them. “What are you doing?”

Mizuki sat back, and spoke up for both of them. “What do you mean? Do you want us to stop?”

“No, I want,” he tried, swallowing hard, crushed by the feeling he was making the whole thing awkward. His mind went blank, his hands shook and his jaw quivered, and suddenly he couldn’t make any words come out at all.

“Oh, oh god, are you okay, what’s wrong?” Koujaku asked, hurriedly wiping Aoba’s wet cheeks and pressing their foreheads together. Aoba suddenly realized he’d started to cry, and embarrassed, wiped a tear away. “Oh, fuck,” Mizuki breathed, rising up and embracing Aoba too.

“I-I told you not to do anything weird, so why are you doing this?” he asked, upset anger seeping into his tone, trying to suppress a sob—which just made it sound even more wet and gross.

Radiating calm certainty, Mizuki gave him the straightforward answer. “We both want you,” he said, pressing a kiss to Aoba’s cheek. “After last time, we both realized that we wanted you, and we agreed to try and seduce you. Isn’t that right, Koujaku?”

Koujaku wanted to lean in and kiss it all away, but now Aoba was staring at him, searching his face for some kind of reassurance. “More or less,” he said, blushing hard. “Is it too much?”

“Of course it is,” Aoba muttered. He felt his anxiety ebb, wiping his cheeks and rubbing his eyes—the thought crossed his mind that apparently Mizuki’s idea of seduction was watching porn and then coming onto someone, not to mention Koujaku went along with it far too easily. Maybe it was a little off-putting, but maybe it was something he could forgive, for their sakes. “But, I guess I kind of figured that out. When you both kissed me. I just—I want to be sure. You’re not messing with me?”

Mizuki nodded. “Our feelings are real,” he said. “I want you.”

“We can stop if you don’t want to,” Koujaku offered, his voice turning husky as he went on, “but I really want you too, Aoba.”

Worrying at his lip, Aoba looked back and forth between them. This kind of thing could only happen in his wildest dreams—it was barely a week ago he’d fantasized about it—but they’d laid it out before him too easily.

“I-I don’t know,” he sighed, wiping his face one more time. “How can it be both of you?”

Koujaku and Mizuki looked at each other, both like they wanted to say something but like they didn’t want to step on each others’ toes.

“Let us show you,” Koujaku assured him. He felt guilty, and showed it by showering Aoba in small pecks and kisses, on his cheeks, his jaw, his ears, his neck. Mizuki settled in next to him again, holding him close and stroking over his whole body. They were both determined to ease him back into it, even though on the screen, the credits were already rolling.

More like, they were going to drive him crazy. He wasn’t used to having so much attention focused on himself. He could only tolerate it for so long, rising to meet each touch and reciprocating every passing kiss to his lips, on the verge of pleading them to stop. He didn’t know what to do with all of the energy they were pouring into him.

Mizuki leaned in toward his ear again, murmuring, “I still want to suck you off, Aoba. Would you like that?”

His gave a pronounced shiver, but Aoba couldn’t muster an answer right away besides a shake of the head. “Y-you really don’t have to—”

Getting down on his knees again, Mizuki worked his belt open and unclasped his pants. “Are you sure? You look very excited down here.”

It was visually stunning, Mizuki making space between his legs—while Koujaku split his attention here and there, he couldn’t get past how eager Mizuki looked. “Sit up a little,” he urged, pulling Aoba’s pants halfway down his thighs when he moved. He managed to wiggle them completely off, slipping off one of Aoba’s little yellow socks too.

Koujaku couldn’t help but glance down at his underwear, light blue in color, turning darker where there was a wet spot near the tip of his dick. Mizuki hiked his leg up, hooking it over Koujaku’s knee, as he ran his fingers up Aoba’s inner thigh.

Without thinking at all, Koujaku reached over to grasp him, and Aoba rose up into his touch, squirming and resisting the urge to let out any noise. After the fact, he blurted out, “I-is it okay to touch you here?”

Completely about to lose his cool, Aoba spat back, “It’s a little late to ask, you hippo—mm!”

“Sorry,” Koujaku apologized into the nape of Aoba’s neck, slipping his fingers under the waistband of his underwear. He jerked him off a little before pulling his underwear down to fully expose his cock in the dimly-lit room. At that, Mizuki dove in too, chasing Koujaku’s fingers with his lips, mouthing at Aoba’s cock through the thin fabric.

Breathing hard and restlessly shifting around, Aoba felt like he was completely at their mercy. “Y-you two—please,” he tried, swallowing hard. He didn’t know why he said ‘please.’ Please stop? Please keep going?

“Please what?” Mizuki asked, the same question obviously on his mind. Koujaku pulled his hand back, waiting to hear Aoba’s answer.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he mumbled, feeling his face heat up as he avoided their gaze. He didn’t want to appear reluctant, but he was nervous. If they kept going, he decided he didn’t want to stop them.

“Okay, won’t look at you. How’s this?” Koujaku stroked him again, tentatively, but also like he was getting a feel for it. Aoba bit back a moan in response, and Koujaku kept it up until Mizuki bumped into his hand, pausing to lick one of his fingers. He pulled it into his mouth with a little suction, rearing back only to take another one in too, and Koujaku felt stunned by a wave of lust crashing over him that he hadn’t expected at all.

If Mizuki hadn’t quickly moved on to Aoba’s dick, Koujaku might have tried to steer him in another direction. Instead, he watched Mizuki’s lips slowly sliding down over Aoba’s dick, closing his lips around him just so. Out of their sight, Mizuki began to palm at himself, listening to the sweet smacking of their lips above him. He felt a shiver of excitement at the thought of Koujaku dominating Aoba’s mouth once more, tasting a spurt of Aoba’s precome on his tongue.

Sneaking an arm around him, Koujaku broke off the kiss and slid both his hands up Aoba’s shirt, finding his nipples this time. He teased them gently under his fingertips, rubbing back and forth, seeing how long he’d have to tease them before they hardened. Aoba wanted to squirm away, but he also craved Koujaku’s touch, even if it was in such a weird place. He still felt like he might break apart under their combined attention.

As his nipples hardened, Koujaku pinched them. “F-fuck, don’t—ah, why—” Aoba protested.

“Mm, sorry,” Koujaku said, settling for lightly rolling his fingers around them. Aoba huffed and turned his head away, denying Koujaku any further kisses and exposing his neck enough to attract Koujaku’s attention there. A hickey would stand out beautifully against his skin, but he was pretty sure Aoba would object again before he could get far.

He kissed the nape of his neck instead, running the whole of his hands down Aoba’s front, stopping near his hips, simply enjoying the feeling of his skin, only slightly damp with sweat, and his body, which was being played by Mizuki like a delicate instrument, under his fingertips. Stifling a moan, Aoba watched Mizuki’s head move up and down at an increasing pace. “Oh, ahh, I-I can’t… Mizuki!”

He slid all the way up and off, exciting a full shudder from Aoba, teasingly sliding his lips up along the side of his cock, and then all around it. “You don’t have to hold your hips still. I can take it,” he said, his voice a pitch deeper from sucking on him.

“Wait!” he cried, a little shocked that they both froze so suddenly, and he sputtered, smaller than before, “I-I don’t want to come yet, please—it’s embarrassing.”

“What’s embarrassing?” Koujaku asked, wondering if they’d gone at this entire thing too quickly. Mizuki hesitated kissing at his dick while they waited for an answer.

“Isn’t it too fast?” he asked, his voice strained. Mizuki went ahead and kissed and licked him a little, unable to resist, and Aoba grunted softly, like he was really holding back.

Feeling a wave of fondness for him, Koujaku answered, “No, not at all.”

Only because Aoba didn’t look too reassured, Mizuki offered, “I can, well,” he paused, circling his fingers around the base of Aoba’s dick, applying a bit of pressure. “Does this help?”

He nodded and gave a sigh, still wound tight. But, with the aid of his hand, Aoba could resist a little longer. Mizuki closed his lips over Aoba’s dick again, idly sucking as he worked open his own belt and pants with his other hand. Sucking on Aoba made him feel hot as hell, and with both of them staring down at him, he couldn’t resist any longer.

Koujaku noticed Mizuki’s shoulder start working as he went down again. Aoba squeezed Koujaku’s thigh as the pleasure overwhelmed him, and he let out a throaty groan. The sound caught Aoba completely off guard, since he hadn’t considered the possibility that Koujaku would be turned on by all this too.

Fueled by that idea, Aoba laid his hand over Koujaku’s crotch, feeling for any hardness there. It took a few tries, a little shuffling around under the layers of his kimono and over his pants, before Koujaku took his hand and showed him exactly where to grip. It was lower than Aoba thought, and closer to his thigh, but Koujaku felt thick and big, almost like he grew bigger under Aoba’s touch. Aimlessly, Aoba stroked him, and the light, teasing feeling was enough to make Koujaku horribly restless.

He talked sweetly and sexily in Aoba’s ear, not looking for any answers, but pecking little kisses onto his heated skin, reassuring him with each breath. “Does it feel good? Do you like it when he wrings it out of you like that? God, I want to see your face when he makes you come. We’ll take care of you, Aoba. Just leave everything to us.”

Aoba let out a full, unhinged moan, losing focus on where he was trying to rub Koujaku through his pants, rolling his hips up with each bob of Mizuki’s head. Koujaku continued to nuzzle his neck, pulling back only to admire the two of them.

Without taking his mouth off, Mizuki worked his tongue over Aoba’s dick, flicking the ridge of his dick and gently nudging the tip, as he followed the rhythm of Aoba’s hips. He had to pull back and avoid being choked by his erratic movements. Still, his eyes teared up as Aoba tried to fuck into his mouth.

When he couldn’t take any more, Mizuki released his grip on Aoba’s cock and pulled off, jerking him with the slickness of his saliva and Aoba’s precome mixed together. “Oh, stop, wait—aah!” Aoba arched, moaning high and giving a breathless shout as he came hard. Koujaku felt a surprised jolt, watching it spurt up from where Mizuki held his cock, as Aoba clung to him, overwhelmed and tensing with each burst until he was done.

Mizuki released him and sat back on his feet, to where they could both see him get off. He fisted his cock with the same hand, the lewd, slick sound of it just reaching their ears. Koujaku adjusted his boner down his pants leg, gripping it a little longer, sating his urges temporarily. Aoba hazily glanced at him, and the thought was like a murmur—now he might be able to help Koujaku get off—but it was only a few moments before Mizuki was coming undone right in front of them.

He hiked his shirt up quickly and shot onto his stomach, showing off a small glimpse of tattoos neither one of them had seen before. Koujaku sucked in a gasp, and Aoba let a quiet “wow” escape.

Squeezing out just a little bit more, he felt a satisfied weariness rush over him. He looked up at the two of them, feeling like he should be ashamed of putting on such a display, but the naked desire on their faces made him feel differently. There were tissues on the end table, so he rose to his feet, holding his shirt up a bit. He wiped his mess up, kneeling down in front of Aoba again to wipe up his mess.

Koujaku had his arm around Aoba’s shoulders, and it was adorable to see him nearly falling asleep right after he came. He put his hand on Koujaku’s knee. “If you want me to, I wouldn’t mind doing you too,” he offered.

“Oh, uh,” Koujaku stammered, blushing hard, “no, I don’t need you to do that, I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?” Mizuki asked, disbelief creeping into his voice.

“Yeah,” he answered, giving him a tight smile. “Let’s take him to your bed?”

Mizuki stood back up and nodded, giving a half-shrug. “Do you want to share? My bed _is_ big enough. But, I think he’s pretty done for tonight.”

“I know that,” Koujaku said, reflexively clenching his jaw. “I just… thought it’d be nice.”

“It’s not a problem. I’ll be right in, you can take him back.”

Aoba’s head dipped like he was really about to pass out, but he woke up long enough for Koujaku to help him make it down the hallway and into Mizuki’s bed. Koujaku followed him closely behind, stopping at the bedside as Aoba crawled in.

Koujaku busied himself with tucking Aoba into one side of the king-sized bed. He admired Aoba for a moment—he remembered seeing him like this before, on the edge of drifting off, his face peaceful. As he was about to turn away, Aoba reached out and snagged his sleeve, with a quiet, “Don’t go.”

Struck with indecision, it was right then that Mizuki walked in.

“Go on. Don’t mind me or anything, I’ll crawl in after you,” he said with a wink, pulling his t-shirt up and over his head. The white tattoos were still there, running up in wide, swirling patterns along his sides and up his chest, almost glowing against his tanned skin.

Mizuki caught him staring and his face broke into that pleased grin. “You like what you see?”

“Yeah,” Koujaku forced the word out, wishing he sounded a bit less like a wistful, crushing schoolgirl. His boner hadn’t gone away yet. Although he’d been doing remarkably well at not replaying what they’d just done in his head, the sight of Mizuki’s tattoos again brought him right back to it.

“Only a little? Seems like more than a little to me,” Mizuki said, pulling his belt off and letting it drop to the floor. Then he slid his pants down and off, and Koujaku didn’t have time to look away. The tattoos disappeared briefly under his underwear, and reappeared around the front of his thighs. It was enticing, but Koujaku finally looked away, wanting to resist the temptation.

“If you change your mind,” Mizuki said, drawing Koujaku’s attention back to him, “well, I’m not going far.”

Mizuki went back out to the bathroom, and Koujaku could hear him brushing his teeth a moment later. Mentally kicking himself for ogling too long, Koujaku laid down on his back, turning on his side to face Aoba so that Mizuki could get in after him. He wasn’t going to finish himself off in the bathroom, nor would he ask Mizuki to give him a hand. He would just wait it out and it would go away eventually.

He closed his eyes and focused on the sound of Aoba snoring softly. As if he could detect a presence next to him, Aoba rolled over and curled around Koujaku, resting his head on his upper arm.

It wasn’t until Mizuki closed the door behind him, settling in behind Koujaku and spooning him, that the realization set in. There was absolutely, not a chance in hell, no way that he would be able to fall asleep with a boner in between the two of them. Well, fuck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! This chapter was the longest so far, and I hope you enjoyed it. Reading your comments helps me continue to write through my bleakest hours, but kudos are always appreciated too <3
> 
> If you'd like to talk about the pairing, the fic, or just howl with me about something, I'm also [piratedsheep](piratedsheep.tumblr.com) on tumblr. c:

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments are always appreciated. Find me on tumblr [here](http://piratedsheep.tumblr.com).


End file.
